Lyrics:
a decent
And safe place to live (yeah, that's right)
And if we start dotting the
Black Community with businesses (YEAH)
Opening up factories
(WHAT ELSE?)
you
But shit the shit we got in the future
I got features lined up for everybody in Dallas man
Y'all don't even know
Stay tuned
KING of East Dallas baby
along the way
A few times, but made it back
Treat these beats like my diary
Lay my heart when I lay a track
Hoping someone can relate
When they play my
a factory nigga/No questions aint no askin me nigga/How I got it out the Mud, I bossed up, just ask the factory nigga/
Hated on by many men, for tryina ball
All these producers send me tracks now it's a dead beat
You saw that boy well tell him I said he's a dead beat
I taught myself to be a man now you see
big, and grind hard, to GET RICHER
The future is english
The future is pleasing
So I live by the moment
To prepare for the feeling
Tip toe
Round limbo
But somehow we've gotten off-track
And we never really got it back, no, yeah
I think we better find a way, yeah
And get right back to the good old
mind
An archaeologist, dusting off ancient relics
Lyrical gems, taken from ancient tombs
Rhymes killed in the womb
By these capitalist baboons
Destroying
the zone all by myself
I'm alone all by myself, I'm on my own
But homes I could set the tone myself
And make the track that I could rap on myself
I wrote
the barbeque pits and the mini-bikes
Mini-skirts, Hennessys, and the Miller Lights
Domino tables, who got big 6?
Where I'm from we do concrete backflips
Flip
up
In the future on the weekends
Fuck a first date, she ain't getting food
But I'ma stuff her face, hold my head high
On the beat, I'ma straight up
ever shanked that bitch
What was it one two three six millimeters by your side?
Run run from a robbery homicide
I'm all about sunny days and the blue
to the bruddahs that see me grind
But still side eye, inconsiderate fiends
I get royalties split from beats
What's a track with a million streams
I rap as a hobby
Money standing 6'5" matte black Benz then I switch rides
Put you in a coffin just like an Egyptian
Watch me switch gears like a stick shift
I took your
and the crew, Q in the future Knowledge and truth
Spent my shit, but I still recoup Stuck to the beat life rubber, I'm glue
Grey as a goose, tea bags, no duck
pulse won't raise a bit
Tip-toe on the track like a ballerina
Ski mask in a Pontiac Catalina
It's obese female opera singer
You can run the jewels
different heat
But when we move the macs for Game, cuz we on the same beat
So if you f**k wit blood, then you f**k wit us
And we ain't bustin' duds, cuz we
feeling lonely
I'm sitting by myself
In a room full of homies
I'll hit the button
A social factory reset
Cuz one bad apple
In the orchard ruins all the rest
6 we do it for the future cause the future is the kids
5 4 3 2 1 always be yourself don't follow no one
10 9 8 7 6 we do it for the future cause
practically
Magically, my head has been a factory
Writing rhyme after rhyme, that's a fact for free
The future's bright like Edison, No…actually
Meant to say
the barbeque pits and the mini-bikes
Mini-skirts, Hennessys, and the Miller Lights
Domino tables, who got big 6?
Where I'm from we do concrete backflips
Flip
the overpriced shoe fits
Factory rappers get subtracted by a factor of six
Six, six, witness this is bout to get iller
It's the nonfiction reenactment of Natural
know, 1
2 3 4 5 6 10, i'm comin' with the dimes
I be stuntin'
He's goin' crazy! Gimme the hook
Who the fuck remade my beat? Damn, uh, uh
Who the fuck
at least a grand
Gold on my neck, my pistols close at hand
I'm a self-made monster of the city streets
Remotely controlled by hard hip-hop beats
But just
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